


Bro: Enter

by Laurasauras



Series: Olympus [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Discussions of abuse, God Tier Powers Evolving, Godstuck, M/M, Soul Splinters, Strider Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25099501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: As a result of his evolving powers, Bro takes over from Dirk. John decides to keep his mischief contained.Includes discussion of abuse.
Relationships: Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/John Egbert, background Dirk/Jake
Series: Olympus [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1435219
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Bro: Enter

On Earth C, about 40 years into their godhood, Dirk finally learns how to control the way that his body sometimes literally falls into two versions of himself as if committing mitosis—namely, his original self and Hal. Sometimes stress triggers it, sometimes something that Hal wants to see more than Dirk does triggers it, sometimes it seems entirely random. It's manageable, and it's not the weirdest of the ways the gods powers have continued to grow as they've aged. But then, after a bad week, a _really_ bad week, Dirk's powers develop in a stranger and more unsettling way.

Dirk transforms entirely into Hal, his original self trapped under a layer of magic he can't get out from.

It ends up fine. By this point, everyone's used to Hal and they like him well enough. Roxy in particular loves Hal, and he stays with them to avoid people asking when Dirk is coming back because he has no idea how to control it any more than Dirk does. And eventually Dirk does come back.

But the stresses that caused Dirk to retreat so far into himself that a more assertive version of himself had to come forward aren't relieved. He's always been an overworker. And if anything, he works himself harder to catch up on time lost, because of course Hal didn't keep up to date with all the things that Dirk considers important.

That stress. A fight with Jake that ends with him leaving for a camping trip for some space. And then the stupidest little thing tips him over the edge. He burns dinner.

If he was a normal guy, he'd probably have just sat on the floor of the kitchen and cried. It might have been good for him to fail at something basic, to overreact and then eventually have to carry on anyway. Instead, for the first time, a splinter of Dirk that he never thought would be seen in this universe firmly takes the reins.

Bro Strider throws away the whole pan and orders pizza instead. He's always been a _get shit done_ kind of guy.

The next day, Bro looks at all the tasks Dirk has set up for himself. He has alarms for everything, for when he has to eat, for when he has to shower, for when he has to contact his friends and list upon list of work tasks broken down into bite sized pieces. As if that was supposed to stop him from getting overwhelmed.

Bro eats cold pizza for breakfast as he deletes all the alarms on Dirk's phone and narrows his eyes at the tasks Dirk has decided he can't live without doing. Kid might be approaching 60 but apparently his body isn't the only thing pretending like it's 20.

There's the surveillance system that Dirk has designed for the whole island he and Jake live on. Why does he think he needs that? It's an island, they're gods, it'll be fine. Bro throws it away.

There's the video game Roxy's been working on that Dirk has offered to alpha test and debug. He isn't even the right person for that, Roxy can find someone more qualified. Dirk can beta if he wants. Bro sends Roxy a message: Hey. I'm reprioritising some shit. Can you get someone else on the alpha? and throws it away. They'll say it's fine.

The brunt of the work is for Jane. Bro can barely control his immediate impulse to set anything with that logo on fire. He might know everything Dirk knows, but it's different being behind the wheel. He doesn't like seeing that spoon or the name Crocker. But that isn't the real problem. The real problem is that she has him doing the work of four engineers and Dirk's pleased by that for some reason. Jane. I'm quitting Crocker. Can you send me a list of shit you need me to do that you can't reassign elsewhere?

The rest of the stuff is more Bro's speed. Dirk's experimenting with cyborg plants with Jade, that shit is interesting. Seeing a ficus with a robot leaf that processes solar power in a remarkably photosynthesis-type way, that warms Bro's stoic little heart. That's the shit he should be working on. That and the “not serious” sketches he's started for an advanced model of a smuppet. Those can go right on top of the rest of the paperwork on the desk. Top priority. Shit, there's a stamp that says that around here somewhere, Bro would cover the title page of the smuppet plans with it so much that it's entirely red, but he just doesn't know where everything is. Dirk operates on muscle memory by now, and some of this shit just doesn't translate across splinters.

Bro can feel his internal Dirk starting to relax, to be ready to come out and deal with the world again. But it ain't happening.

‘Sorry, brah,’ Bro says, smirking at the mirror. ‘You'll just pick up more projects if I let you do that. Give me a few more days. You're in time out, kid.’

Dirk should be worried that Bro has the control to keep his soul somewhat confined. He should try and fight, draw on the fact that he has a lot more experience with heart powers. But he's being told what to do firmly for the first time in a long time.

Shit, he's totally into the idea of being dominated by himself. This shouldn't be a surprise after Hal. He's so fucking messed up. He deserves to be left in time out.

Bro winks at the mirror, absolutely able to process all of that, and decides it's time he saw more of this brand new world the kids have made.

He goes to Jake first. It takes him no time at all to track him down. Dirk could have done it, and Bro can track better than Dirk. Dirk was chased all his life, Bro did the chasing. Big difference, instinct wise. He perches on a rock and watches as Jake sets up his camp, wondering if Jake has qualms about this shit. He hasn't slept with Hal, but he doesn't like Hal. He hasn't met Bro.

Only one way to find out.

Bro jumps into the clearing, not bothering to time his jump with something noisy Jake is doing or to muffle his feet in any way. Jake turns, startled, and then relaxes at the sight of Bro for about a second and a half before it registers that he isn't Dirk. Bro likes how fear looks on Jake English.

‘You're not Dirk,’ Jake says, standing up straight, feet evenly spaced with his hips. A good fighting stance. And the guns Bro knows he's packing would be an inconvenience if Bro chose to fight him.

‘Dude, chill,’ Bro says. ‘Dirk's stressed out of the pumpkin he calls a head. I'm driving for a bit.’

‘Like Hal,’ Jake says, uncertainly.

Bro shrugs.

‘Sure. Hey, can you let the little guy off the hook? He's an idiot but I got a list to get through here.’

Jake still isn't relaxing. It's like there's something about Bro he instinctively doesn't trust. Smart man. Bro would very much like to give him a real reason for that.

‘We would have been fine when I got back,’ Jake says. ‘I just needed some space.’

Bro steps closer to Jake and notes how his thighs tense as if he was going to step back but changed his mind. Damn but they're some short shorts for a grown man. Not that Bro's complaining. His ass deserves to be shown off and it's not a bad sight from the front neither.

‘Yeah, I know that. Dirk even knows that. But I'm sorting his life out. You get it.’

Jake shakes his head.

‘I'm afraid I don't,’ he says. ‘Guess I'm a bit dull that way. Are you staying?’

‘Yeah. Fancy a spot of fisticuffs, old sport?’ Bro says, with the kind of grin that makes Jake unable to like Hal. ‘Winner gets to top.’

Somehow, the edges of Jake are starting to look a bit softer. He's glowing from the inside out, his brown skin looking strange with the whiteness shining through it.

‘Please leave,’ he says.

Bro cocks his head to the side. He considers staying. He'd love to see if Jake could beat him in a fight. But for some reason he can't. He holds two fingers to his cap in an ironic salute before he kicks off the ground and flies back to their house.

‘Hope,’ Bro says to himself as he lands. ‘He fuckin' hoped I would leave. Jesus.’

He can't see any point in sticking around if he's going to keep himself hidden, but he also thinks he has a fairly good handle on what Jake's like as a person. There's basically no way he hasn't called someone to warn them. Maybe he even recognised who Bro is. More than just another splinter, that is.

So, he decides he's gonna play it cool. He goes inside and pulls out the video game system Roxy released a few years ago with so much help from Dirk it's actually ridiculous. Bro should have come out ages ago. He turns on a game he thinks Dirk liked, rolling his eyes at how infrequently this thing is used. Both Jake and Dirk like games. Why are they so serious now? They won.

Bro gets the hang of it pretty quickly. Roxy's a fan of vintage games and Dirk had input into the controller's design so it's pretty intuitive for a guy like him. He's gonna get all the high scores on this thing. He wonders if it'll piss them off to see their hard won ASS, FUQ and RXY usernames replaced with BRO. He hopes it does.

It’s over an hour before Bro hears someone land outside. And then two more someones. He recognises the footsteps despite the time that's passed. Dave always did walk on his toes when he was nervous.

Bro equips his sword and swings it at Dave's chest as he opens the door. Dave blocks it, but the sword he equipped, clearly entirely on instinct, breaks.

‘Fuck,’ he says.

‘Swear to God, no one can break a sword like you,’ Bro says faux-sadly, lazily sweeping his sword through the air to rest the flat of it on the back of his neck. ‘Gonna make my accountant cry.’

‘You don't pay for my swords,’ Dave says. ‘Fuck. Jake was right. Fuck.’

Behind him are Rose and John. Bro waves at them, ironically friendly. Rose steps forward and pushes Dave behind her.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asks. ‘Where's Dirk.’

‘Around,' Bro says, waving his hand vaguely. He's not sure if he should be gesturing at his head, which would make sense, or his chest. Heart in the more literal sense. 'He's in time out.'

'The fuck does “time out” mean, Bro?' Dave says.

'It means the kid needs a sit down until he learns his damn lesson,' Bro says. 'You forgot what time out is?' Bro leans to the side so he can look at Dave properly around Rose. She tightens her grip on him. 'Always happy to give a demonstration, lil man.'

Rose actually pulls out needles and comes at Bro, but he slices the tips off them without blinking and shifts to a ready stance. Dave grabs her arm and jerks her back before she can escalate.

'Don't,' he says. Their breathing is even in sync. Freaky. 'Can you let Dirk come back, please.'

Aw, kid remembers his manners.

'No one ever got out of time out bein' nice,' Bro reminds him. 'He's gotta wait. You gonna chill with me for a bit?'

Dave shakes his head.

'You're not going to apologise to Dave?' Rose asks.

For a moment, Bro feels like Dirk is about to take back over. He sternly tells him to sit the fuck down, metaphorically or whatever. It seems that Dirk can't approve of the way Bro raised Dave. Bro can feel Hal, can feel another splinter that doesn't have a name yet rebelling inside him too. They don't approve either. It's not comfortable. It’s the least comfortable Bro’s been in a real long time, and he wasn’t even aware of existing until pretty recently. He stays standing and focused by sheer will.

'You aired out your shit pretty thoroughly with Dirk,' Bro notes.

'Turns out talking can help,' Dave retorts.

'Is me saying sorry gonna help?'

'How about you try.'

Bro stares at Dave for a long moment. He doesn't hand out apologies easily and he's not entirely sure he wants to give this one. If he had his time over again, he'd do it exactly the same. His kid survived the end of the world. Maybe he could’a done it without some of the shit he complained about to Dirk, but who wants to unstep on that butterfly and risk death over a rocky childhood.

Still. He hadn't actually wanted to hurt Dave. He'd shoved all that worry that he was messing the kid up way to the back of his brain before Dave even turned three. If he hadn't, he'd have gone insane. There's a reason Dirk hasn't had kids. A reason he'll never have kids. Anything can hurt the fuckers. Even the kind that fall from the sky and can break down doors before they even got the hang of jumping. 

(Bro didn’t come by his idea of appropriate punishment and restraints naturally, he’d been in Dave’s shoes too. He just wasn’t a little bitch about it.)

Rose is still standing in front of Dave. She doesn't look like she's going to let Bro past to make a proper apology. But Bro doesn't particularly want to go too hard with it, not unless he's going to go _way_ too hard with it, full on cake and big dramatic gestures, maybe a teddy bear the size of a house with a love heart that Bro embroidered himself to say 'I'm sowwy' on it. That, he could get behind. The smaller stuff is harder.

Every splinter of himself screams at Bro exactly what he did wrong, and how he isn't allowed to justify himself here. It makes for an exhausting insight into what it's like to be Dirk and a fairly effective self-checking system for making a good apology. He hasn't had to deal with a moral voice in his head since he first rented his body out to pay the bills. Sometimes you gotta deal with shit and questioning it only makes it harder to act. 

'I wanted you to survive,' Bro says. 'I took it really far, and I hurt you when I wanted you safe, and I'm sorry you have to live with that and I don't have to.'

Dave shakes himself free of Rose's grip and walks out of the house without responding. Bro shrugs easily. Best he could have hoped for.

'You didn't say you were sorry you did it,' Rose says.

'I don't lie to him,' Bro says. 'Can I get back to my game now?'

Rose walks out of the house and takes Dave's hand before they both fly off together. Bro stares at John, who hasn't left with them.

'Aren't you gonna go with your friends?' he asks.

John looks behind him as if checking Rose and Dave are really done.

'I think I'm gonna keep an eye on you,' he says.

Bro gives him his most wicked smile, as if he's said something scandalous, but John doesn't flinch. Huh. Maybe he'll be more interesting than Jake.

'Are you gonna play with me?' Bro says, deadpan. He lets John think about it for a moment before he gets restless and goes to sit back on the couch. He picks up his controller.

'I'm watching you,' John says.

'Hot.'

'Your son's my best friend, you'll have to do better than that.'

Bro doesn't take his eyes off the television as he lifts his t-shirt up enough to show off his nipple, flicks the piercing in it as if he's bored and then drops it. He doesn't miss a single coin from the game. When John doesn't say anything or even move from the doorway, Bro looks over at him again.

'Do I need to show you something better than that?' Bro asks.

John scoffs. As he breathes, he fades out into the air and then reforms on the couch next to Bro.

'I'm not afraid of you,' John says.

Bro is slouching so much on the couch that he has to look up to look at John's face.

'Is it because you know deep down I got a heart of Dirk?'

'No,' John says. 'Dirk's pretty stressed about being a good guy for a dude who's never even littered, I gotta imagine he knows he's capable of something bad. I just know you couldn't hurt me. Me specifically.'

Now that's interesting. Bro doesn't move, even though he's desperate to rise to that kind of blatant challenge. Surely John has to know that.

'You got some kind of crazy high tolerance for pain?' Bro asks.

John shakes his head.

'The only things that touch me are the things I want to touch me,' he says.

There's a Dirk in Bro's head that is sounding the _god damn it John is playing with that line again_ alarm. Bro knows because Dirk knows that John hasn't stayed with anyone longer than a night for over a decade. When he has stayed with men in the past, he's shrugged it off with a comment about being the god of change, just as he has when he’s changed up his pronouns and name. Dirk, self-hating bastard that he is, assumed this was a way of signalling nothing would ever happen on this particular front. Dirk, Bro's learning, is an idiot.

Bro isn't one to pretend he's not interested in something, not unless it's in a cat or something that has to come to him. If anything, John's asking to be chased. Bro throws the controller lightly onto the coffee table and sits up straighter.

'You want to maybe elaborate on that one, kid?'

John, despite the fact that he is the youngest and has never been able to cure himself of the kind of soft cheeks that make one look baby-faced forever, has the kind of eyes that make Bro actually question the kid angle for a moment. Bro has no idea if he's older than John or not. He knows his body is, it's feeling pretty mid-30s where John looks in his early 20s, if that, but do all of the Dirk splinters stack on top of each other when counting age? Or did they merge?

John holds Bro's gaze for a while with those old eyes before holding his hand out to him. Bro holds his hand out too, but doesn't quite take it.

'You can touch my hand,' John says.

Bro places his hand on John's, let's his fingers circle his wrist and then strokes the back of it.

'Okay, I've had enough of that,' John says, and without waiting for Bro to stop, his hand disappears into wisps of cool air.

Bro looks at him with an absolutely undisguised hunger. John becomes slightly more transparent. Bro grins wolfishly, proud that he could make John feel touched just by looking. 

'We could have fun together,' Bro says. 

John looks at Bro coolly. 

'Why would you think I would want to have fun with you.'

Bro moves suddenly, boxing John in on the end of the couch. He can fade away at any point, but he doesn't, of course he doesn't. Bro technically isn't touching him, even though they're so close that they heat of their bodies is mingling. 

'I've seen how you look at Dirk,' Bro says.

'Aren't you Dirk too?'

The corner of Bro's mouth pulls upwards. 

'Yeah, without all that pesky restraint and bellyachin’. You want to see what a Dirk willing to make a move looks like?' Bro lets his head drop until his lips are a fingers width from John's neck. He exhales gently and watches goosebumps bubble on his skin. 'Want to see what a Dirk willing to give rather than take looks like?'

John swallows and the motion makes his Adam's apple brush Bro's lips gently. Very corporeal. Bro takes that as permission to lick a lazy stripe up John's neck and then suck roughly just under his jawline. 

'Gonna make you lose your breath, kid,' Bro murmurs. 

'No,' John says.

Bro looks up at him with indifference. 

'You don't need to say 'no', remember?' Bro says. He shifts closer and ghosts his hand up the inside of John's thigh. 'You need to put up a fight to be able to enjoy it? I can play bad guy.'

John bites his lip anxiously against any kind of response, but his hips lift just enough for Bro's hand to land more firmly on him. 

Bro knows what happened last time with John and Dirk. He knows that this alternate universe version of himself needs his partner to take the lead and he finds that ridiculous. Who wants to be the pony when they can be the rider?

Bro moves his hand back down John’s thigh, towards his knee, because he knows that Dirk would cup that beautifully swelling cock in his hand, knows that at the slightest indication that he’d be allowed to, he’d suck it until his jaw fuckin’ broke under the strain. Hell, Bro’d do the same. But he also knows how to play it cool.

Bro tilts his head until his nose brushes against John’s. John lifts his chin, but Bro moves with him, avoiding his lips by the smallest of margins. John makes a tiny pleading noise and Bro meets his eyes, smirking so John knows he’s won.

And then he kisses him, deeply and with intent to overpower. John can get away from him. Bro wants to push him until he wants to and have him choose to stay anyway. He wants to bruise the untouchable god. He takes John’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and guides it firmly to the side so he can get started on that project on John’s neck. 

‘Hey,’ John complains. ‘We are too old for visible hickeys.’

Bro sucks harder. John arches his neck more despite his protest.

‘Not even the right season for scarves ...’

That makes Bro stop, if only so he can huff out a laugh. He looks at his handiwork and is pleased by the deep purple he’s achieved. He licks over it and his tongue tingles as it finds some stubble John missed near his jaw.

Bro pulls at John’s shirt and then suddenly finds it in his hands. He blinks as he processes, then realises John played his windy trick on his shirt. He gets a fistful of John’s jeans and is gratified when he’s able to pull them off through his body as well. 

‘Nice trick,’ he says, impressed.

‘Thought I’d get myself in easy reach seeing as you’re gonna spend the next two minutes struggling out of your skinny jeans.’

Bro looks down at his pants and sees that Dirk does not have the upper hand when it comes to fashion sense. He looks back at John’s body, for all appearances 20-something and at that awesome stage where he probably only has to occasionally jog to the bus to keep it in shape. Yeah, he’s not going to hop around on one foot trying to free his ankles. 

He stands up and feels his sword materialise in his outstretched hand. Two strategic cuts later and his clothes fall to the floor. 

‘O _kay?’_ John says. 

Bro toes his shoes off, much as it’d be hilarious to fuck John still wearing them. He grabs John underneath his knees and tugs him to the edge of the couch. John braces himself on his forearms but lets himself be dragged. Bro kneels between his legs and his eyes flick up as he assesses Dirk’s sylladex. 

‘Man, the ‘dex I got been built by a rube, but at least the motherfucker thought to leave me some **lube.’**

‘I hate your sylladex,’ John says. ‘That’s it, sex over.’

Bro raises an eyebrow above his shades and lifts John’s cock so he can take it into his mouth. He sucks. 

‘Okay, but you’re on thin ice,’ John moans. 

‘You don’t want to know what he had to call condoms to make the rhyme scheme work,’ Bro says, happy to leave John to deal with a mess rather than say the words _fuck balloon_ in the middle of sex. Not unless he thinks of a really good rhyme while he’s down here. He takes John’s dick back into his mouth.

Bro flicks open the lube cap with his thumb as he slowly bobs his head. Depending on the metric, it’s either been a couple years or aroundabouts 40 since he last did this, but it’s not something he’s forgotten. He misjudges the amount of lube he needs, unable to watch himself apply it, and impatiently drops the tube to the floor as he carefully tips some onto his right hand. He wraps it around John’s cock, prompting another moan, and presses his fingers to his ass. 

John flinches and Bro stills, but he says, ‘Cold, keep going,’ and Bro resumes. He traces a fingertip once, twice around John’s rim, then presses inside. John groans and moves his hips, chasing the feeling. Bro looks up at him as he proves his ambidexterity, jerking him shallowly and finger-fucking him without breaking the rhythm he’s built with his mouth. John’s head falls back into the couch as Bro adds a second finger.

On another occasion, Bro might drag this out. On the other hand, he outgrew that part of himself a fair while back in favour of messy and quick hookups and this is already more foreplay than he usually bothers with. He’s fuckin’ ready to get on with this. 

He draws away, stands and pulls John by his legs again until his ass is resting on the arm of the couch, body angled down onto the cushions. 

‘I’m not a doll,’ John says.

‘Mores the pity,’ Bro says.

‘Dude. Lose the hat.’

Bro does not lose the hat and he smirks that John didn’t even try to ask for the shades to go. He lubes up his dick and presses it against John’s ass. There’s resistance, then give. He goes slow and shallow at first, brow furrowed in concentration and arousal. He’s gone from nothing to everything and John’s ass is something magic. John’s hands lift to grip at his own hair and he groans. 

Bro inches faster, then faster again. John’s legs wrap around Bro’s hips and he pulls him closer, deeper. This is not a man who occasionally dabbles in anal out of curiosity, John evidently _loves_ cock. Bro’s happy to oblige him, especially when John keeps pulling him past the depth he usually judges as polite and right to the hilt.

Bro watches as John’s cock dribbles on his belly, the tacky precome making it cling more than bounce, and wants to touch almost as much as he wants to see if John’s one of those lucky bastards who can come through his ass. 

_’More,’_ John begs.

Bro’s eyebrows raise, but he’s a hospitable gentleman. He grunts under his breath as he speeds up. The sound of slapping skin heightens and Bro digs his fingers into John’s hips to lift him to meet the movements. He starts to doubt his stamina in the face of this.

But then John makes a helpless _Mmng!_ noise and his calves tense around Bro’s back. His cock twitches and then spurts his release, gravity taking it right up to John’s neck. Bro’s own orgasm sneaks up on him while he’s still absorbed in looking, disrupting his careful rhythm and sending him bucking deep into John. 

_’Fuck,’_ he breathes. 

John lets his legs fall limp and then sighs, melting into nothing and reforming on the couch proper, looking very relaxed. Bro frowns at his dick, attempting to process the _weird_ sensation of ass suddenly disappearing in a burst of cold air. John has not left room on the couch for him. Bro sits on his belly as punishment for his rudeness. John groans, but stays corporeal. Bro likes the clear boundaries on this guy. 

‘What was that about?’ Bro asks.

‘I am kinda all about whimsy,’ John says. He doesn’t sound out of breath, of course. Bro doubts his lungs have anything to do with it. 

‘I ... am not equipped to deal with this,’ Bro realises. ‘Whatever, Dirk’s problem now.’

‘Aren’t you Dirk too?’

‘I’m Dirk’s worst nightmare. And I absolutely am Dirk too.’

Bro slips off John until he’s sitting on the rug and leaning back into the couch. He wonders if maybe for once he should keep his mouth shut. He wonders if he knows how to tell the truth anymore. He probably should get used to it. 

He lied to Rose before. Of course he did. He lied to Dave more than anyone and punished him for not figuring it out. He needed to be more cynical. _He needed to be a kid,_ Dirk insists inside him. Ah, the days when he came up with those thoughts all on his own.

‘Dirk woulda fuckin’ loved to be raised by me,’ Bro says. ‘Think he woulda liked being a guardian too. I knew shit, John, the hell did I know shit. I had a goal and a plan and a fuckin’ devil on my shoulder tellin’ me I was doin’ it right. It’s like, do you know the story of Hercules?’

‘Uh ...’ John says. ‘I know the Disney version?’

Bro is silent for a couple beats as he thinks over what he remembers of that version. He saw all the Disney movies before the world ended, as did Dirk. Most powerful media company in the world reforming kiddies’ views of fairytales? Damn straight he wanted to know what was up with that. Pirated, of course.

‘Okay, sure, that’ll do. So Herc is stuck on Earth, Zeus says, “Broseph, do some labours for me and you’ll redeem yourself.” Little fucker just wants to impress his daddy so he does, gets the shit kicked out of him again and again but in the end ... he survives, he becomes a god. I mean, he turns it down for a hot piece of ass, but you know.’

Bro assesses his analogy. Yeah.

‘And what you have to understand about the original Greek version is that it’s not all “oh no, we want our kid up here but we, the fuckin’ gods, are powerless”. It’s Hera being a jealous bitch and making Hercules kill his family, and that’s what he has to redeem himself from. And the Greeks ate this up, a demigod who went through hell and kept fighting.’

‘Dave had to redeem himself for killing his family?’ John asks flatly.

‘Nah, it’s not a perfect one-to-one. He had to take what he had thrown at him even when it was unfair so that he could be enough of a man to win this shit.’

‘Nice story. You still abused him. And it didn’t work, he _hates_ fighting, hates _any_ conflict, is terrified of looking anything like you. You fucked up.’

Bro shrugs. It’s done, he already did it, he can’t change it. And he likes who Dave is now plenty.

‘Gonna plead devil puppet,’ he says. ‘This is some god-awful pillow talk, Egbert.’

‘Didn’t think you’d go for pillow talk at all,’ John says.

‘You’ve met Dirk. Suckin’ dick is one of the few ways to get us to shut up.’

Bro scratches his chest, as if that’ll get rid of the discomfort in his heart. _Alright, already,_ he tells himself. _Not thinking about it anymore._ He picks the controller back up.

‘You gonna keep supervising me?’ Bro asks. ‘’Cause I gotta say I don’t hate your type of supervision.’

John sits up and his shirt flies to his hands. He sighs heavily. Bro rolls his eyes. Not like John was complaining during the _supervision._

‘You’re evil,’ he says.

‘Yup,’ Bro agrees. ‘Don’t take my explanations for justifications. I’m plenty aware I threw away my moral code. Haven’t suffered so much since.’

‘Maybe you should.’

Bro shrugs. He’ll take it if he has to. Or he’ll hide in Dirk, depends on how far they want to push it. 

John climbs back into his jeans and picks up the other controller, pressing the button to enter multiplayer. Bro doesn’t feel the need to get dressed. He can fight with his dick out and everything else is gravy.

‘Are you gonna let Dirk come back?’

‘You want to supervise both of us at once?’ Bro asks.

John doesn’t answer. Which is not a _no._ Bro looks forward to meeting the rest of the kiddies.


End file.
